


Longer

by isidore13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Master/Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isidore13/pseuds/isidore13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Severus are deeply in love - have been, in their estimation, for even longer than there've been fishes in the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longer

It was a routine they had both enjoyed for years. Voldemort had been defeated at the very end of Harry’s seventh year, and their relationship had started almost as soon as Harry had left school.

It had been a year or two into their relationship before Severus had realised that Harry needed a man with a strong hand to take care of him. The neglect he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys still preyed on his mind and made him need not just a lover but a master. He needed to hand control over his life to someone else.

Of course, it hadn’t begun this way.

In the beginning, when Harry had still been a student and Severus his teacher, they had, of course, lived in separate quarters, and after their first kiss (Harry’s seventh year, during one of their many private lessons), Severus had refused any further physical contact. Then, after Harry had left school, he’d lived in his own flat in Hogsmeade, and he would join Severus in his quarters for lunch and dinner each day.

Severus had waited for Harry to make the first move. After all, as eager as Harry had been for more after the kiss, he was still a boy in many ways, and boys changed their minds rather often.

Severus was not one to force his presence on anyone.

It had taken Harry quite a while to realise that he would have to approach Severus himself, but once he had realised it, he didn’t wait.

During dinner one evening, with blunt words typical of all Gryffindors, he made his wants known.

“I want you to fuck me,” he had said, his jaw set stubbornly, daring Severus to refuse, even as his wide, guileless green eyes betrayed his nervousness.

The way that the look in those eyes had transformed from anxiety to shock when Severus readily agreed to take the boy had made something clench in Severus’ heart.

And weeks later, his heart clenched again when Harry admitted (accidentally, and then he’d only explained further after lengthy questioning – getting the boy to talk would always be like pulling teeth) that he had thought sex was for the man on top. Any pleasure felt by the recipient was “just a bonus”, he’d said.

Then he had admitted blushingly that Severus had proved him wrong.

There proceeded further proof of Harry’s misconceptions regarding intimacy, as Severus carefully brought him to draining orgasm after draining orgasm, until Harry dropped into unconsciousness.

No, in the beginning their relationship had been relatively normal, all things considered, and after a while, Harry started spending more time in Severus’ quarters than he did in his own flat. He even began to do some minor chores every now and then, while Severus was at work.

Then, one evening, they had fought – Severus did not remember what they had fought over anymore – but the fight had ended with Severus pulling Harry over his knee and giving him five sharp swats on his firm little bottom – and everything had spiraled from there.

So Severus had moved Harry into his home, and Harry had taken over all the menial chores Severus hated doing. And, because Severus enjoyed watching Harry scrub the floor and do the dishes, and because it was how Harry had learned to do them, all the chores were done in the Muggle way.

Harry also cooked for Severus, and the food, while not as consistently delicious as the house-elves would make it, but there was enough variety in selection to make up for the few mistakes.

Harry cooked and did the chores because it pleased him to do so.

It pleased Harry, to please Severus.

Severus had never had someone who needed him like Harry needed him. He had been in his share of odd relationships, yes; he had possessed a slave for a short time during his long stint as a Death Eater, yes; but he’d never met anyone who derived such satisfaction, physically and psychologically, from being submissive to someone else’s desires.

Part of him hated Vernon Dursley for making Harry need this.

The other part of him wanted to thank Vernon Dursley for making Harry need this.

Harry greeted him at the door, prostrating himself in front of Severus and removing his socks and shoes.

“Is dinner prepared?” Severus asked by way of greeting.

“Yes, Severus,” Harry said.

Severus patted Harry’s head gently. “Good boy,” he returned, and watched as Harry preened under the praise and leaned into his touch.

“Go on and put my socks in the hamper,” he ordered, and headed into the dining room.

Severus took his seat and unfolded his napkin. “How was your day?” he asked when Harry came in.

“It was good. I finished all my chores,” Harry replied as he spooned string beans onto Severus’ plate.

“Serve yourself and have a seat, Harry.”

Harry obeyed, wincing slightly as he sat on his bruised bottom, and lifted his fork, digging in to his chicken. “How was your day, Severus?”

“Same ignorant children with mush for brains as ever, even those who made it into the Masters training this summer. Miss Cartwright, however, is proving to be . . . an adequate Potion maker. She may yet achieve a Master level rank.”

Harry smiled at him, that shy one that almost made Severus want to smile back.

“Lindsey will be coming by tomorrow. I’ve invited him for dinner. He has been asking for some time to catch up with me.”

“Yes, Severus.” Harry was careful, Severus noticed, not to let his dislike of the man colour his voice.

Harry had not liked Lindsey – or Severus’ close relationship with Lindsey – from the moment Harry had met him, six years ago.

Lindsey Parkinson had been sorted into Slytherin House fourteen years before Harry had begun school, four years before Severus had started teaching.

He had been one of the students Severus had counted on, because Lindsey was intelligent and mature, and had been even at fourteen.

He was also an attractive man, Severus noted in a detached sort of way, with thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes.

But Lindsey had something he needed and Severus had to be Slytherin about getting it back from the man.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Perhaps you could make your excellent pheasant? Lindsey is quite fond of your cooking.”

Harry smiled, although it was a bit more subdued than usual. “Yes, Severus. What would you like for dessert tomorrow evening?”

“Lindsey would appreciate some of your excellent crème brulee,” Severus answered after a moment’s thought on the matter.

“Yes, Severus. I-I made chocolate cake for tonight’s dessert.”

“Ah, good.”

Harry smiled tentatively.

“As you know,” Severus began, changing the subject, “Saturday is your birthday. How would you like to spend it?”

“With you, Severus,” Harry answered truthfully.

“Harry.” Severus’ voice was steel. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry blushed and nodded. “Yes, Severus. I’m sorry. I-there is a Quidditch match at the London arena that I would like to see.”

“Perhaps we shall go. Would you like to invite your friends?”

“Yes, please, Severus.”

“Excellent. You may ask them when you owl them tomorrow. What else would you like to do?”

Harry bit his lip, then looked at the floor. “I-I really just want to spend a quiet day with you, and see my friends for the match in the evening. With you. A-and-” here he broke off and shook his head.

“And what, Harry?” Severus prompted gently.

“And I don’t want to cook.” Harry winced slightly. Usually, he loved cooking for Severus, loved to see the man’s expression relax into bliss when a new experiment had gone particularly well, but this year he felt like having a small respite from the stove.

“All right, we’ll have the elves prepare lunch and go out for dinner with your friends, and we’ll pick something up for Sunday’s breakfast when we go shopping on Saturday.”

Harry relaxed visibly. “Yes, Severus. Thank you.”

“And after the game is over and your friends have left, I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Yes, Severus.” He polished off the last of his chicken and folded his hands to wait for Severus to finish eating.

He loved Severus. Severus understood what he needed more than Harry had, more even than Hermione, and certainly more than Ron.

Hermione and Ron had been terribly concerned the first time they saw how Harry and Severus interacted. Harry even understood why; they thought Severus was abusing him.

But he wasn’t.

He had explained, over and over again, that he needed to give control to someone else, and one day Hermione had hugged him, smiled, and promised that she understood why he felt that way. She had taken a Muggle psychology course at university and presented the situation as a hypothetical to her professor, and the woman had explained that such a relationship could indeed be healthy, and had given Hermione a list of warning signs to see if the relationship was actually abusive.

Ron had snorted and said he would never understand, but as long as Harry was happy and healthy, he could accept it.

And Ron had accepted it, and was only rude to Severus when Severus was rude to him.

Harry liked knowing that Severus cared enough for him to set rules, and to punish him when he broke those rules. Uncle Vernon had not had a set of specific rules, but there had been quite a lot of harsh, cruel punishment. Professor Dumbledore had a set of specific rules, but although he cared about Harry, he had never punished Harry for breaking them. McGonagall had sometimes, but Severus was the one person in his childhood who had cared enough to punish him every time he broke a rule.

Was it any wonder that now, in adulthood, he craved a firm but loving hand to guide him? And Severus gave him just that. Severus never punished him for no reason (unlike Uncle Vernon), but also never failed to punish him when he misbehaved (unlike Professor Dumbledore).

Harry rose as Severus finished dinner and carried the dishes to the sink. He served Severus his piece of chocolate cake and rinsed off the dinner dishes. By the time he had spelled them clean and dry, and put them away, it was time to pour Severus his glass of brandy and retrieve the book he was reading from the shelves.

Harry thought again about life with Severus as he puttered around. He’d broken three rules on Monday. He had dropped a dish at breakfast, causing it to shatter; forgotten to make Severus’ bed; and he had slept through his alarm. All three instances had been accidents, but he had been on punishment anyway. Severus said it was to remind him to be more careful.

So yesterday, Tuesday, Harry was paddled forty-five times in the morning, and forty-five times that night, fifteen for each rule. Though the pain had aroused him so that his prick was hard and pulsing with need, he was not permitted to orgasm. He’d had to wake up an hour early because Severus had to go to work, but he also had to supervise Harry as he washed the dishes and made his bed, and he had to give Harry his punishment before he left, even though Severus was tired, too.

That had been very upsetting for Harry. He had inconvenienced Severus and made him lose sleep, and that was almost the worst part of the whole punishment.

The very worst part of the whole incident had been the disappointment on Severus’ face on Monday night.

Then, last night, Severus had to watch him wash dishes again, and then he’d watched Harry scrub the floor of the bathroom, and finally, Harry had had to kneel on all fours next to Severus’ bed that night, his bruised, sore bottom wriggling in the cool night air.

When Severus had woke up this morning, however, he had received a gentle kiss on the mouth and a promise that Severus would heal his bruises after dinner tonight. There was the short list of his regular chores, and then Harry had the rest of the day off until Severus came home from work.

Now Severus seated himself on the couch on the parlour and watched Harry as he lit the fire in the hearth and the candles next to Severus’ table so he could read.

Harry went to sit at Severus’ feet, but Severus patted the couch next to him and Harry beamed, taking his place beside Severus.

The older wizard pulled him close and wrapped the arm holding the book around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry let his head fall on his lover’s shoulder. “I love you, Severus,” he murmured sleepily. He had been too uncomfortable to sleep very well last night.

Severus made a non-committal noise and began reading aloud, but Harry was used to that. Severus had been his lover for almost seven years now, but he could sometimes be a little unsure of himself, like he couldn’t believe that this would last.

And he had never returned the sentiment, which sometimes made Harry nervous.

But, listening to Severus’ smooth, dark voice, letting it wash over him like a soothing balm, Harry new he was happier than he had been his whole life.  
The text was a potions manual, but that didn’t matter to Harry, not when he could feel Severus’ chest rumbling beneath his cheek with every word. Not when he could feel the beat of Severus’ heart beneath his palm.

Harry let out a little sigh of contentment, and Severus switched the book to his other hand and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, petting him gently. He settled his other hand over Harry’s on his chest.

Harry nuzzled closer against him. The movement reminded him rather painfully of yesterday’s punishment and this morning’s subsequent promise. “S-Severus?” he whispered.

Severus stopped reading to look at Harry inquiringly.

“Erm, can you fix me?”

Severus moved his eyes from the book to regard Harry curiously, and then he nodded as realisation dawned. “Yes, stand up and pull down your trousers.”

Harry obeyed and soon felt the bruises disappear.

“Pull up your trousers and sit back down,” Severus said.

Harry sat down once more and cuddled back into place beside Severus.

* * *

An hour or so later, Severus looked down at Harry’s sleeping face, watching as he made a little ‘puh’ sound that pursed his lips in his sleep.

Severus brushed Harry’s hair back from his forehead and ran his fingertips over the scar, memorising the shape as he’d done many times before.

“Harry,” he whispered, tweaking the boy’s nose lightly.

Harry slowly opened his eyes as Severus prodded him gently awake. “Sorry, Severus,” he apologised, voice a bit slurred from his nap.

“Come on to bed, then,” Severus said, rising and heading for the bedroom.

Harry followed behind him into the bath connected to Severus’ bedroom. Once there, he unbuttoned Severus’ shirt and slipped it off of him, then Severus’ trousers and pants. He carefully folded the clothing and put it in the hamper.

Severus looked in the basket as he opened it. “You will do laundry tomorrow, Harry.”

“Yes, Severus,” Harry replied as he turned on the water in the shower to Severus’ desired temperature.

“No, I think we’ll have a bath this evening,” Severus said.

Harry nodded and filled the sunken two-person tub while he undressed himself – though not as slowly or reverently as he’d done Severus.

Severus stepped into the warm water and leant back against the Cushioning charm while Harry joined him.

Harry gently soaked a flannel and washed Severus carefully and medically, although Severus could see the boy was half-hard, and the sight of the reddening cock rising out of the dark curls aroused him as well.

In due course, they were both clean and Harry was fully erect as he dried Severus off.

He saved Severus’ cock for last and Severus caught Harry’s hair between his fingers before he could dry it.

Green eyes blinked up at him and a pink tongue darted out to lick suddenly dry lips.

Severus ran two fingers down the side of Harry’s face. “Would you like to take me in your mouth?” he asked softly.

Harry’s lips parted in a breathless moan and he nodded.

“You may,” Severus allowed.

Harry smiled and leaned forward, lapping softly at the head of Severus’ cock. His warm, slightly callused hands came up, one to cup his bollocks, the other to rub lightly behind them at his perineum.

He moaned softly as Harry took him fully into his mouth, swallowing and swallowing, his agile tongue licking at the base while he sucked.

Harry pulled back, then came forward again, licking all the way up and down. Then he moved off Severus’ cock entirely and let the cooling air wash over it before swallowing Severus whole again.

Severus moaned long and loud when Harry pulled back and wiggled the tip of his tongue at Severus’ slit.

“Touch yourself, but do not come,” Severus ordered, and moaned when Harry complied.

Harry moaned around Severus’ cock as he masturbated, and the vibration combined with the energetic sucking set Severus off, and he came with a cry.

Harry swallowed the come eagerly and licked Severus’ cock clean, still masturbating.

Severus looked down at Harry’s prostrate form. The swollen red lips were still wrapped around his cock and the big green eyes stared up at him through sooty eyelashes and the glint of Harry’s spectacles. Harry’s large, slender hand was alternately forming a ring at the base of his cock and rubbing himself gently.

He pulled out of the warm mouth. “Stop and follow me,” he said. “On all fours, please,” he added over his shoulder, hearing Harry whimper softly behind him at the order.

“Stand and lay spread eagle on the bed,” he ordered softly, and Harry complied.

Severus sat down on the bed next to him and bent his head to lap at Harry’s nipples, each in turn, coaxing a delightful series of pleading moans from the hapless boy beneath him. Then Severus kissed and licked down the cavity of Harry’s chest. He thrust his tongue into Harry’s navel in a parody of intercourse until Harry’s hips were jerking uncontrollably, and only then did he move down and lap at the pre-come dribbling slowly from the head of Harry’s hard, purpling cock.

Harry sobbed and pleaded softly, and one hand came down to circle his fingers at the base of his cock and keep himself from coming, but Severus swatted his hand away. “You may come,” he said, and got in barely one more lick before Harry was coming hard.

Severus swallowed and moved up to kiss Harry softly, brushing his tongue across the younger man’s. Harry’s orgasm combined with his sleepless night last night must have thoroughly exhausted him, because he made no move to wrap his arms around Severus’ neck as he usually did, and his lips moved somewhat sluggishly under Severus’.

“Sleep, Harry,” Severus ordered, and Harry yawned and nodded, starting to slip out from under the covers.

Severus caught him and pressed him back against the mattress. “No, you’ve earned sleeping in the bed tonight.”

Harry yawned and nodded again, settling more firmly into the soft sheets.

“How long will you need to prepare tomorrow night’s dinner?” Severus asked.

“Five hours,” was the sleepy reply.

“Then you will be permitted to sleep an extra hour tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Sev’rus,” Harry slurred.

He was already out, because he made no move to set his wand to wake him up.

Severus chuckled softly and brushed a light kiss on Harry’s brow, then set Harry’s wand himself.

Harry cuddled up to him in his sleep when Severus wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes as his Alarm Charm went off. He yawned and sat up, and a sheet of paper fell off his head. He laughed and picked it up, absently turning off his alarm.

 _Dear Harry_ , (it read),

 _It should be around nine o’clock right now. Do not panic: if you don’t remember, I gave you permission to sleep for an extra hour._

Don’t forget that Lindsey is coming tonight for dinner. The house must be spotless; you have permission to forgo our room until Lindsey has gone if you need more time, except for the bed. Also, remember that Lindsey is to be called Mr. Parkinson if he should speak to you – and that you are not to speak out of turn.

If you should finish your chores early, you may sit on the couch and read.

I will be home with Lindsey promptly at six. As always when we have a guest, you will not be required to prostrate yourself and remove my shoes at the door. However, I expect you to be on your best behaviour this evening. I know that you would not embarrass me, Harry.

I have laid out your clothes for this evening. I expect you to be dressed and the table to be set for two when I arrive. You will be serving us this evening. Lindsey is an important guest, and I expect you to treat him as you would treat the Minister.

Finally, I wish to remind you that you are representing me by your behaviour this evening.

All that being said, I wish you to know that I know that you will do me proud. You are an excellent cook and I have the utmost confidence in you.  
Sincerely,  
Severus Snape

Harry smiled and carefully put the letter away in his drawer before beginning his chores.

* * *

Harry had just set the pheasant on the table and was casting a Warming charm on it when the front door opened. He gave the centrepiece a quick last straightening before moving to greet them at the door.

“Lindsey, you remember Harry. He attended Hogwarts with your little sister,” Severus said, not looking at Harry.

Lindsey nodded at him. “Potter,” he greeted.

“Mr. Parkinson, Severus. Dinner is ready if you’ll follow me, please, gentlemen.” Harry smiled and led them toward the dining room.

Severus stopped him from pulling out Lindsey’s chair and did it himself, then allowed Harry to pull out his chair.

“How are your parents doing, Lindsey?” Severus asked as Harry unobtrusively began serving the pheasant.

“They’re doing fine. Father putters about the house too often for Mother’s taste – she thinks he ought to let the house elves do the _bricoler_. They fight about it constantly.” Lindsey laughed as Harry poured the wine.

“Thank you, Harry, that will be all,” Severus said, dismissing Harry. “Pansy has been remiss in her correspondence with me. How has she been lately?”

Harry heard Lindsey’s rich laugh all the way into the kitchen. “Can you believe she and Draco have had their _fourth_ child?” he said, voice fading as Harry silently closed the door.

He was terribly confused. Severus had never treated him this way before, so dismissively. As if they weren’t lovers. Harry had always eaten at the table with the guests, and now . . . and now Severus was treating him as if he were . . . were nothing but a servant.

He felt his eyes prickle with tears.

Angrily, he blinked them back.

Try to think, Harry. Maybe you broke a rule and this is your punishment.

But . . . but Severus had always told him before when he was on punishment, and he hadn’t said anything in his letter at all about Harry having misbehaved.

But there was another reason Severus might behave this way. What if . . . what if Severus wanted to end their relationship? Harry reeled, distraught.

He couldn’t. Harry needed Severus. Harry loved Severus.

But Severus had never said he loved Harry.

Maybe he didn’t.

Maybe he wanted a relationship with someone who wasn’t so needy, like Lindsey.

Or-or someone who was better looking, like Lindsey.

Or just someone who was better.

Like Lindsey.

A tear slipped out of his eye and he wiped it away, resigning not to cry.

If Severus wanted him gone, he would have to say so. Harry wasn’t going to leave until he was forced to.

But Severus wanted to talk on Sunday.

Harry sighed and wiped his eyes, hoping they weren’t too red.

He composed himself carefully and re-entered the dining room. Carefully and silently he refilled their wineglasses and took their empty plates back to the kitchen, not listening to their conversation.

He dished crème brulée into dishes and carried it carefully into the dining room. He served Lindsey first and Severus second, and then headed back into the kitchen, again without listening to them.

Harry rolled up the sleeves of his robes, donned an apron, and distracted himself with washing dishes until Severus called him once more.

Quickly, he doffed the apron and rolled his sleeves back down as he headed out of the kitchen.

“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Parkinson,” Harry said, and pulled Lindsey’s cloak out of the closet, helping him into it.

“Pleasure seeing you as well, Potter,” Lindsey smirked at him and rebuffed Harry’s attempts to straighten his hood for him. “And seeing you, Severus,” Lindsey simpered, and kissed Severus chastely on the mouth.

Harry barely held back a sharp gasp of betrayal as he watched Severus allow it.

He missed the sharp look of confusion Lindsey shot him for looking at Severus, missed the cunning comprehension that stole over his features as the man took in the shock and betrayal written all over Harry’s face.

“Right,” Severus said. “Harry, I’m going to walk Lindsey to the apparation point.”

“Yes, Severus.” Harry turned his back on the pair and walked back into the kitchen to finish the last of the dishes.

Harry heard the front door open as he cast a drying charm on the last dish. He was reaching for a pan to clean when Severus called for him.

“Harry,” Severus called, his voice weary. “Can you bring me a brandy, please?”

“Yes, Severus,” Harry said, and he filled a glass with the amber liquid.

He brought it out to Severus and handed it to him.

Severus gulped it and patted the couch next to him. “Sit. I want to be with you,” Severus said.

“But . . . the dishes . . .” Harry protested half-heartedly.

Severus shook his head. “Don’t worry about them. Sit next to me,” he urged.

Harry wondered at Severus’ strange behaviour, but willingly sat down and allowed himself to be petted.

Severus nuzzled his nose against the base of Harry’s throat. Harry felt his agile tongue dart out to lick at his skin and shivered in pleasure.

Severus moaned softly and stood up, taking Harry’s hand and pulling him up. “Come with me, Harry.”

Harry followed obediently, his confusion at Severus’ behaviour overwhelming the betrayal he felt, at least for the moment.

“S-Severus, what-” he began when Severus led him into the bath.

“Shh. Have a seat on the chair, Harry.”

Obediently, Harry sat and watched, perplexed, as Severus filled the tub with water. “Come here and tell me if this temperature is good for you.”

Harry complied. “This is fine, Severus.”

Severus looked at him for a long while. “You don’t prefer it either warmer or cooler?”

Harry shook his head.

“All right.” Severus reached to unbutton Harry’s dress shirt.

“Severus, what are you doing?” Harry asked, frozen as Severus began undressing him.

Two long fingers landed on his lips. “I want to take care of you tonight, Harry.”

Harry nodded against the fingers on his lips. “Yes, Severus,” he said.

Severus smiled softly at him and cupped his cheek, moving in to kiss him softly as he undid the buttons of Harry’s shirt.

Harry moaned softly and pressed closer to Severus, kissing him hungrily as the older wizard shed his dress shirt and unzipped his trousers, pushing them gently down his legs. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as Severus broke the kiss and bent to take off Harry’s pants and socks.

“Get in the tub, please, Harry,” Severus requested roughly.

Harry nodded and slid into the warm water. Severus gently urged him to lean against the Cushioning charm, and in a few short moments, Severus had shed his own clothes and joined Harry in the tub.

He took up the flannel and soaped it up, then ran it over Harry’s body, gently scrubbing away his hurt and confusion along with the dirt of the day.

Under the water, he grasped Harry’s hardening cock and stroked up and down.

Harry gasped at the sudden (thought perhaps not so surprising) move and mewled softly, shutting his eyes as Severus coaxed him to orgasm.

“So beautiful,” Severus breathed, and Harry opened his eyes to watch Severus watching him. “So lovely. Come for me, Harry. Come for me.”

With a sharp cry, Harry came, sobbing.

Dimly, he felt Severus lifting him from the tub. When he came back to himself, Severus was carrying him to the bed, carding his fingers through Harry’s inky black hair.

“Sev’rus?” he mumbled.

“Shush,” Severus whispered as he lay Harry on the bed.

Severus sat down next to him, and Harry saw that his cock was thick, and swelling, and there was a thread of precome connecting Severus’ flat belly to the tip of his cock.

He scooted backwards to sit up and reached eagerly for Severus’ cock, intending to bring Severus off, but Severus slapped his hand away gently. “Not yet, Harry.”

Harry licked his lips. “Yes, Severus,” he whispered, disappointed but obedient.

“Turn over,” Severus said softly, and Harry, mesmerised by the rasp of his voice and the lust in his eyes, did not hear his words.

So Severus simply turned Harry over himself. Pointedly ignoring his own aching erection, he straddled Harry and massaged the kinks out of his muscles, slowly moving down Harry’s tense body, until Harry was nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mass on the bed.

Severus gently turned him over again and repeated the process on the front of Harry’s body.

Harry was so relaxed he wouldn’t have noticed if Voldemort himself had entered the room and levelled a wand at him.

Blearily, he watched Severus reach for the jar of lubricant on the nightstand. He took Harry’s half-erect cock in hand, bringing him to full arousal as he stroked Harry rhythmically.

And finally, finally, he coated two fingers with plenty of oil. Harry’s legs fell open to give Severus access to his grasping entrance, and Severus gently worked his fingers into Harry, brushing his prostate with every thrust. Harry keened softly, too spent to make any other noise, and a third finger entered him, thrusting in and out, and then the fingers were gone and Harry heard a soft hiss and managed to open his eyes enough to see Severus was coating his cock liberally with the slick oil.

Severus settled over him, kissing him, softly at first, then, as his arousal became more urgent, he thrust his tongue into Harry’s mouth, massaging Harry’s palette in rough strokes.

He felt the smaller body below him squirm desperately and rubbed his hips against Harry’s, their hard cocks brushing against each other, swallowing each other’s moans in their mouths.

Severus slid his hand down Harry’s slender chest, brushing his fingers over Harry’s prick fleetingly before he thrust the head of his own cock against Harry’s entrance.

Harry whimpered and tugged their mouths apart. “Please,” he moaned. “Please fuck me, Severus.”

Severus moaned loudly and obeyed, thrusting his prick into Harry, impaling the pleading, grateful boy beneath him. He grasped Harry’s cock and squeezed gently, eliciting a louder, pleading cry, and Harry humped against him, breath coming in little yelps.

He did not intend to make Harry wait, stroking the boy’s cock more roughly as he thrust inside him.

“I’m-I’m coming!” Harry cried. “S-Severus, come w – come wit-“

Severus reached down and cupped Harry’s balls in his other hand.

And squeezed.

He licked his thumb and ran it over the slit of Harry’s prick.

And squeezed.

Harry came, screaming. His hips jerked up and down, trying to get both sensations at once, the hand on his cock, the prick in his arse, his breath sobbing, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, his throat working, and his mouth hanging open. He looked – there was no other word for it – ravished.

Severus stopped thrusting to watch, and when those bright, sated, half-closed green eyes set on his, he came with a cry.

Harry cried out in pleasure as Severus came inside him. Through a haze, he felt his body lift of its own accord to press against Severus’ and his arms wrapped around his neck, pulling the older wizard against him.

Severus kissed him very gently and lay his head on Harry’s shoulder, his tongue snaking out to lick Harry’s collarbone soothingly.

He lifted his head and smiled at Harry. “One more time,” he whispered, and Harry whimpered in half-hearted protest. He was already exhausted!

Severus kissed him softly once more and moved down, licking at Harry’s chest and navel as he went.

He turned Harry so that he was laying on his stomach, then parted Harry’s thighs and licked up and down Harry’s cleft.

Harry yelped weakly and pressed back into Severus as he traced Harry’s entrance with his hot, wet tongue, lapping up the come that had pooled there.

Severus pressed his tongue into the tight entrance, trying to get every drop of spilled come, fighting with the muscles that were trying to keep the slick invader out.

He kept licking carefully and worked a finger into Harry as deeply as he could, then began thrusting in and out, stroking his prostate gently, making Harry’s hips jerk.

He stroked the sensitive flesh more firmly and Harry came for the third time, though it wasn’t much more than a few drops.

He moved up Harry’s body and kissed him one last time before moving back into the bath to get a warm flannel.

He gently scrubbed the saliva from Harry’s arse and turned him over to clean his prick and stomach, then attended to himself before throwing the towel back into the bath and gathering the insensate young man in his arms.

Harry was too spent to do more than whimper against Severus and fall asleep.

But Severus stayed up very late that night, thinking . . .

* * *

Harry yawned as he woke the next morning, muscles still more than relaxed from Severus’ ministrations the previous night.

Another note fell from his head when he sat up.

 _Dear Harry,_

I’m afraid I will be late this evening. I am going out to dinner with a friend, and we will be out late as we have some business to discuss.

I am at work right now, and it should be about eight in the morning. Please do not wait dinner, and I should see you at about eleven o’clock. Make sure to complete your chores.  
Toujours Fidele,  
Severus

Harry smiled and put the letter away before heading into the bath to have a shower.

* * *

He had just finished washing the dishes he’d used for lunch when a knock sounded at the main chamber door.

All day he had been hard pressed to keep the smile from his face and the skip from his step, so it was with a huge grin that he opened the door to reveal Lindsey Parkinson.

“Mr. Parkinson,” he greeted warily, holding the door open only a little.

“Potter. Is Severus in?” Parkinson asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, he’s at work, sir. In his classroom. Can I help you?”

Lindsey laughed cruelly. “I guess the Boy who Lived really has fallen, haven’t you, calling a Parkinson sir. Let me in, Potter.”

Harry hestated, then stepped aside reluctantly. Severus would want him to treat Parkinson courteously, so he would.

No matter what.

“Where is your fireplace?” Lindsey demanded. “Take me there.”

Harry did, shutting the chamber door behind them.

Lindsey tossed some Floo powder in and called, “Potions classroom!”

“Lindsey!” Harry heard Severus say warmly. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

Lindsey smirked back at Harry. “I wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight, Severus.”

“Of course we are, Lindsey. Saint Martin’s Pub at six, correct?”

Betrayal cut through Harry like a knife and he bit back a gasp as Lindsey nodded. “Just verifying, Severus. Thank you.”

“I shall see you there, then?”

“Of course. At six then, Severus.”

Lindsey cut off the Floo and turned to pout mockingly at Harry. “Aw, I guess ickle Hawwy is about to lose his boyfwiend.”

Harry held his head high despite the blush blooming on his cheeks. He said nothing, merely turned and strode back into the kitchen.

Lindsey followed. “He’s upgrading from a little boy to a real man, Harry. I knew he’d never put up with the needy sort for too long – especially not one as ugly as you.” Lindsey patted Harry’s shoulder in mock sympathy. “But you’re famous, though, Harry! You’ll find someone new, I just know that there are people in the world who can look past your ugly face and scrawny build to see your fame.”

Lindsey patted his cheek mockingly with a derisive smirk on his face. “I’ll show myself out,” he said, and left.

Harry looked at the clock. It was only twelve-fifteen.

He could go lay on Severus’ bed and cry.

Amazing how fifteen minutes can change your whole perspective.

* * *

He lay awake on the floor at eleven when Severus came home – he wasn’t going to sleep in Severus’ bed when he felt so betrayed – and quickly feigned sleep as Severus came through the bedroom door.

Severus sighed softly as he knelt next to Harry. A long fingered hand slipped down to brush Harry’s hair back from his head.

“You must be so terribly confused and hurt,” Severus murmured, so softly Harry had to strain to hear him. “And it pains me to let you continue that way. One more day, my Harry. One more day.”

A light touch of Severus’ lips to his scar and he could not help but shiver.

* * *

Breakfast was frying on the stove when Severus padded, yawning, into the kitchen the next morning.

Harry grinned at him in greeting and turned back to the stove to turn the sausages.

Severus didn’t allow speaking before he’d had his first cup of coffee, something he suspected they were both grateful for.

He watched Harry work, admiring the unconscious, efficient dexterity and grace with which Harry did everything. Harry was such a proud, dignified, beautiful boy, Severus though without bitterness. Not for the first time, he wondered what on earth Harry was thinking, submitting, allowing himself to be degraded, with so much pleasure, before a man such as Severus.

Harry set a hot cup of coffee and a plate of hot food in front of him, which Severus acknowledged with a grunt before he tucked in. Harry smiled and turned to the sink to wash the pans he had used this morning, his tongue hanging out as he scrubbed hard at a particularly stubborn bit.

Severus wolfed down the last of his eggs and stood to wrap his arms around Harry from behind, nuzzling his nose into Harry’s hair. “I want you to wear the ring today,” he said softly into Harry’s ear.

Harry gasped and shivered, shoving his hips back against Severus, who chuckled darkly and moved away. “Finish the dishes,” he ordered as he left the room.

“You are so evil!” Harry cried despairingly, sinking his hands back into the sink.

“For that, you’ll wear the plug, too,” Severus called back, almost gleefully.

Harry groaned, and even he didn’t know if it was anticipation or apprehension.

* * *

Harry’s knees weakened as the plug gave a particularly focused throb against his prostate. He bit back a groan of pleasure and placed his stack of books on the counter.

Severus caught his arm where he would have fallen and pulled Harry close against his body, supporting him, as he haggled with the bookshop assistant over the price.

“Doing all right?” Severus asked as they left the shop.

“Well, I’m rather hungry,” Harry responded with a cheeky grin. The effect was rather ruined by his faltering step as the cock ring contracted around the base of his half-hard prick.

Severus smirked and said loftily, “We’ll go to Three Broomsticks then.”

Harry grimaced at the thought of sitting with the plug up his arse, even though he knew from experience that it wasn’t so bad once you were seated.

It was the act of sitting down that was the trouble.

Still, he sat gamely, if gingerly, and was grateful for Severus’ guiding hand on the small of his back.

Though he could live without Severus’ constant smirk, he thought with a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Severus asked as he sipped his wine.

Smirking, of course.

“I was just thinking that I wish you’d stop smirking,” Harry replied with practiced innocence.

Severus raised an eyebrow and leaned on the table, looking into Harry’s eyes. “Do you want to know why I’m smirking, Mr. Potter?” Severus asked, his voice a low, rumbling purr.

Harry gulped. He loved it when Severus called him ‘Mr. Potter’ in that low, sultry tone.

“I’m thinking about how needy you’re going to be tonight, when we get home. Will you jump on me as soon as we’re in the door, rub yourself off against my thigh like the slut you are?” Harry moaned very softly. “Or will you wait like a good boy, kneeling at the foot of my bed, watching me with desperate eyes?”

Harry was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were white.

“And perhaps I’ll wait too long, and you’ll crawl over to me on all fours and just take me in your mouth, sucking me hard so that I could no longer ignore you, without even thinking of your own release.

“Because you’re _my_ toy, aren’t you, Harry, and when you’re on your knees in front of me you’re nothing but a hot, slick hole for me to fuck, as hard as I please, for as long as I please.

“S-Severus,” Harry whimpered desperately. Severus lay his hand over the bulge of Harry’s erection, and Harry almost cried out in pleasure.

Severus pulled away rather suddenly, and Harry realised why when he said, “We’ll have two bowls of the house soup, Madam Rosmerta,” he said, as if he hadn’t a moment ago been teasing Harry mercilessly.

Harry, beet red, turned his face to side, humiliated.

Rosmerta took in the entire scene, Harry red-faced and looking anywhere but at her, and Severus looking as innocent as he could with that self-satisfied smirk on his sharp face.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You boys play nice,” she said, and winked at Snape as Harry whimpered his humiliation.

Severus chuckled darkly and leaned over to whisper in Harry’s ear. “You will stand, without any haste – let everyone see what a state you’re in – and you will go into the toilet. You’ll enter a stall, you will kneel, you will close your eyes, and you will wait for me, Mr. Potter. Is that clear?”

Mute, Harry nodded.

Severus leaned back comfortably in his chair. “Go,” he said, with that infuriating smirk.

He rose shakily to his feet and headed toward the toilet. Once there, he gave a quick, longing glance toward the sink, wanting almost desperately to splash cool water on his face – but Severus hadn’t said “splash water on your face”, he had said, “enter a stall”.

So Harry did.

Then, he lowered himself to his knees, the rough cotton of his robes slipping teasingly over his cock, and shut his eyes. He thought briefly about closing the stall door, but realised that it would smack into him if Severus opened it with any kind of force.

So Harry just crossed his arms behind his back, because Severus liked him to do that when he knelt, and waited.

Moments later, his stomach gave a hungry rumble and he bit back a chuckle.

In this game, anyway, he thought suddenly, he knew he had Lindsey Parkinson beat. Lindsey Parkinson, he reckoned, could never tolerate the degradation.

Of course, he was better than Harry in lots of other ways: He was really good-looking, and he was intelligent, two things Harry could never claim to be.

Still, if Severus were –

The toilet door opened and closed, and Harry held his breath, hoping that it was Severus, that is wasn’t some stranger who would –

“Ah,” came the much-beloved voice. “Such a good boy, Harry,” Severus said proudly, patting his head.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry replied. What would Severus want him to do now? Would he be allowed to take Severus in his mouth? In his hands? In his arse, here and now?

Harry whimpered softly at the thought, feeling that warm body lean over him . . .

* * *

“Evil, Severus, there is no getting around it!” Harry was still insisting as he began putting their shopping away.

“What did you expect, Harry?” Severus chuckled calmly. “That I would have you suck my cock right there in Three Broomsticks?”

Put that way, it did seem rather foolish. Harry pouted. “You’re a bloody tease, you are,” Harry muttered mutinously, but the smile twitching the corner of his lips betrayed him.

Severus had only removed the plug so that Harry could use the facilities, then slid it back inside him and taken Harry out to eat lunch.

Severus just chuckled, throwing his feet up on the coffee table. “You’re angling for a spanking this evening, aren’t you, pet?”

Harry froze and ducked his head, blushing, before he resumed putting their shopping in its proper place.

Severus just chuckled and accepted the book Harry handed him on the way by.

* * *

Severus closed his book a while later and smirked at the boy before him. “Clever boy,” he praised mockingly, admiring the slender, nude form kneeling submissively at his feet, the pale cock half hard and exposed completely to Severus’ perusal. “It seems that my little slut does have some patience after all, don’t you?”

Harry just nodded submissively.

Severus leaned forward and threaded his fingers through the boy’s hair, tilting Harry’s head back until green eyes peeked up at him anxiously. “Have you misbehaved today, Harry?”

Harry licked his lips. “Yes, sir,” he whispered, and Severus watched his throat work.

Severus smirked and lifted his hand from Harry’s hair to tap the boy’s nose gently. He leaned forward until his lips were just brushing Harry’s ear and just _breathed_ for a moment.

Harry took in a shaky breath and his fingers clenched.

Severus smirked and asked the crucial question. “Do you _want_ to be disciplined, Harry?”

Harry whimpered softly and nodded. “Please, sir,” he begged breathlessly.

Severus leaned back in his chair and ran his eyes over Harry’s body appraisingly. “And have you earned the privilege of getting what you want?”

Harry cast about, at a loss, and Severus smirked.

“Wait for me in the bedroom,” he ordered, then licked his lips as he watches Harry drop to all fours and crawl away.

Once he was out of sight, Severus headed into his private lab and retrieved the new toy he’d bought a month ago. It had been sitting in here, just waiting for the right time to be introduced into their games.

He slipped it out of the rather garish packaging and held it spread out in front of him, so that he could see everything. The metal on the chains shined and glinted in the faint light of the candles.

Severus felt a cruel smirk growing on his face.

This set of nipple clamps was a little different from the set they’d been using. Instead of two separate clamps, these were connected to a central ring by two thin chains. A third, slightly longer chain led to a clip that would attach to Harry’s cock ring.

The central ring was large enough that Severus would be able to attach a leash to it if he chose, but privately Severus had already decided that if he ever wanted to put Harry on lead, he’d get the boy a collar and do the thing properly.

But he didn’t think he’d ever need – or even want – to put Harry on a leash.

In Severus’ opinion, there was nothing more beautiful than seeing Harry on all fours, needy and desperate, helpless and suffering for his release, clinging to his hard-won dignity by a thread. Knowing that the boy needed nothing but a word from Severus to fall into position, to debase himself in that manner without any accessories to define his place, gave Severus such a sense of mastery, and Harry such a sense of helpless arousal that neither of them needed anything else.

They both knew where Harry belonged.

Severus folded the decorative clamps into his palm and swept out of his lab.

* * *

Harry was waiting for him, kneeling at the foot of the bed, as Severus knew he would be. “Such a good little slut you are,” he said approvingly.

The boy flushed more darkly. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome, I’m sure,” Severus said wryly, and strode toward his chair.

He dropped the nipple clamps on the floor in front of Harry as he passed him.

Once seated, he contented himself with watching Harry stare at them, not daring to move, perhaps a bit afraid to ask.

He crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair. “Put them on, boy, what are you waiting for?” he snapped.

Harry jumped and picked the clamps up to inspect them. After a moment, he set them on the floor again and lifted his hand to his mouth.

Looking straight into Severus’ eyes, Harry began flicking his tongue lightly against his fingers until they were slick and wet. Then he rubbed his fingertips over the bud of a nipple, pulled at it, making it peak, preparing it for the metal clip.

With a hiss, he let the mouth close over his sensitive nub.

He didn’t stop looking into Severus’ eyes the entire time, and by the time Harry had clipped the entire work of art onto his body, Severus’ prick was throbbing with arousal.

He made no indication of this, of course, and simply continued to watch as Harry slid back into position.

The man just stared at Harry, taking in the smooth skin and lean body, until Harry began to squirm with anticipation.

“Stay still,” Severus ordered sharply.

Harry stilled immediately.

Severus leaned forward. “I’ve barely been here five minutes, and already you’re writhing, anxious for my touch,” he said softly. “One wonders how you would behave if I simply sat here through the night, watching you resist your own urges – merely because I asked you to.”

Harry whimpered softly, screwing his eyes shut.

Severus rose from the chair and turned his back on Harry, releasing the buttons of his robes. “Come here,” he said over his shoulder as he dropped the robes.

There was a scrambling sound and when he turned again he was amused to see Harry kneeling in front of him, his hands behind his back as if bound there.

“You may take me in your mouth,” Severus allowed, “But your hands stay where they are.”

Harry whimpered and nodded, then leaned forward, flicking his tongue lightly over the head of Severus’ prick.

He gulped and stared up at Severus once more, loving the malevolent, lust-filled glint in his black eyes as he looked down at Harry, his expression impassive.

Harry bit his lip to hold back a smile and set to again. He moaned as Severus threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair to cup the back of the boy’s head, as much to keep him in place as to caress him.

Harry relaxed his throat as well as he could and slid his lips over Severus’ cock, taking the man as deeply into his mouth as he could.

“Take it, yes, that’s a good boy,” Severus said in that smooth, dark voice.

Harry moaned deeply and brought one hand to cup Severus’ bollocks; the other hand moved to stroke his own needy prick.

Severus’ hand tightened cruelly in Harry’s hair. “Hands behind your back, boy,” he ordered as Harry looked up at him. “You do want that spanking, don’t you, you little trollop.”

Harry whined and slid his hands behind his back once more, clenching his fingers tightly together to stop him moving his hands.

He pulled back to wriggle the tip of his tongue gently in the slit of Severus’ cock, then took the length in his mouth again, sucking, licking where he could.

“Harry,” Severus moaned, hands tightening convulsively.

Harry whimpered and sucked harder, twisting his fingers against each other to keep from reaching to touch Severus, to touch his own cock.

Severus smirked and let his hand slide from Harry’s hair across his cheek and down his neck to tug gently at the metal clip crushing the boy’s pink nipple.

Harry pulled back sharply, yelping, and glared.

Severus raised a challenging eyebrow and pulled again.

The boy’s expression grew sly and he smirked up at Severus mischievously, and then pursed his lips. He planted a soft, would-be chaste kiss on the head, and then took Severus’ prick into his mouth once more.

He swallowed, and then let his teeth scrape ever so lightly over the sensitive flesh.

Severus yanked at Harry’s hair. “Boy, you-” he began roughly.

Quick as a Snitch, and before Severus could stop him, Harry grasped Severus’ wrinkled sack and kneaded gently.

Severus came with a cry, tightening his hands fiercely in Harry’s hair, roughly thrusting his hips into the boy’s mouth.

Harry swallowed eagerly, massaging, milking Severus’ cock for more.

Severus pushed him away roughly and fell into his chair, looking at Harry’s sprawled form. When the boy would have moved to a more comfortable spot, he barked, “Don’t move, you idiot child!”

Harry stilled immediately, and Severus could see real fear in his eyes, and did not miss the way his cock twitched.

“I’m tempted,” he said honestly, “to leave you lying there all night. It would be a fitting punishment, in my opinion, for deliberately disobeying a clear order.”

The eyes closed, but otherwise Harry didn’t react.

Severus stared at the boy until he opened his eyes again. “What do you think?”

Harry gulped and whispered, “Whatever you think is best, sir.”

“Ah, yes,” Severus agreed. He stood up after a silent moment and strode to the bookcase, slipping a book from the shelf and returning to his armchair. “I hope I don’t need to tell you that if you move before I give you permission, you will indeed spend the night in that position?”

“No, sir, I understand,” Harry whispered miserably.

Severus opened the book and began reading.

In the beginning, this sort of punishment had been the most difficult for Severus to carry out. Ignoring Harry had been almost impossible. It had taken years to be able to do it effectively – although Harry swore each time that this was his least favourite form of punishment.

Idly, he turned a page he hadn’t read and comforted himself with the knowledge that Harry had earned it, and knew it.

Three-quarters of an hour later, he closed his book nonchalantly and stared at Harry a while longer.

Eventually, he said softly, not unkindly, “You may make yourself more comfortable, but you’re to stay on the floor.”

Visibly relieved, Harry stretched out on his stomach, laying his head on his hands.

Severus would let him hide, at least for the moment. “You’ve misbehaved, Harry.”

Harry nodded.

“You haven’t disobeyed an order that way for years,” he said, hearing the disappointment in his voice, letting Harry hear it.

Harry nodded again, pressing himself into the floor as if it would be so good as to swallow him.

“You seem to have forgotten your place.”

Harry gave a short sound that might have been a sob, and nodded.

“Get on the bed,” Severus ordered flatly.

The boy stayed very still for a long moment, then picked himself up from the floor.

“On all fours,” Severus commanded darkly.

Harry dropped without thinking and pulled himself onto the bed.

“Lay on your stomach, hold onto the headboard, and spread your legs.”

Harry sighed sharply and complied.

“You can make up for your actions by doing everything I say for the remainder of the evening without question or protest. The only words I want to hear are ‘yes, Severus’.”

“Y-yes, Severus,” Harry whispered.

“Relax,” he ordered.

Harry shuddered slightly and Severus watched as he forcibly relaxed his muscles, starting at his toes and moving up his tensed legs to the firm arse, each muscle visibly slackening.

When Harry had relaxed, Severus stood up – and Harry immediately tensed again.

Severus sighed loudly. “Re _lax_ , boy,” he growled.

He didn’t know if it was the “boy” or his tone, but hearing that, Harry immediately melted, as if reassured. “Good boy,” he said softly.

Severus opened the drawer of his night table and withdrew an old, soft paintbrush that had worn out its usefulness long ago. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, and when Harry complied, he ghosted the feather-soft bristles lightly down Harry’s spine from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, watching avidly as the boy was unable to keep from shivering in delight.

Severus leaned over and followed the same path with the very tip of his tongue.

Harry whined and wriggled, humping his hips against the mattress.

Severus pulled back immediately. “Hands and knees,” he ordered sharply.

Harry whimpered his protest but did as he was told, raising himself up onto hands and knees, and Severus could see his cock, red and throbbing, hardening swiftly. “Good boy,” he praised, and savoured Harry’s needy moan, the way the bright green eyes squinted shut and Harry’s mouth fell open against his will.

Severus took up the soft paintbrush once more and stroked the downy bristles along the tender underside of Harry’s arm. Harry gasped sharply and his arm fell out from beneath him before Harry caught himself again.

Severus chuckled. “Little tart,” he said almost affectionately and moved to Harry’s legs. He pressed lightly at the inside of Harry’s thighs with the wooden handle of the paintbrush until Harry slid his legs apart with a little whine.

He found the pot of unguent and dipped the bristles in, then painted a stripe of slick up the back of Harry’s leg in slow strokes, drawing ever closer to the high, taut balls. He drank in Harry’s hungry whimpers contentedly, watching the slender hips move as Harry rutted against the air, seeking something – anything – to rub against.

“S-Severus,” Harry begged as the paintbrush began making tiny, tickling designs on the cheeks of his arse. “Severus.”

“Yes, boy?” Severus replied dispassionately. “Is something the matter?”

Harry whimpered and kneaded at the bedcovers. “Yes, Severus,” he managed.

“What?”

The boy shook his head and beat his fists into the mattress, unable to answer, humping his hips up against the brush, trying to get Severus’ hands on his arse.

Severus leaned over the wriggling form and whispered, “Good boy,” into Harry’s ear. He let his fingertips ghost over Harry’s rampant prick and Harry yelped, rolling his hips toward Severus’ hand, trying in vain to feel more friction on the sensitive skin.

“Keep your hips still, boy,” Severus growled, and Harry stilled immediately.

Severus pulled away and a whimper escaped without Harry’s consent. He felt his cheeks redden further, if that was even possible, and longed for Severus to touch him again, longed to be permitted to touch himself.

He gasped and moaned and curled his toes and fingers into the bedclothes to stop himself rutting against the paintbrush teasing his entrance. The bristles on this one were stiffer than the other, creating a delicious, sensitising friction on the already sensitive skin of his entrance.

Every breath came out on a cry, and Harry was concentrating so hard on that little, stiff brush stroking over his delicate pucker, coating him thoroughly with oil, that he almost didn’t notice Severus’ strong, slick hand sliding up his thigh.

“Severus!” Harry cried out when the merciless hand stopped at the juncture of his thigh and hip, inches from his purple, swollen prick.

Severus chuckled darkly and bent to lap at the sweat pooling on the small of Harry’s back. He stroked his slick fingertips very softly over Harry’s hips.

Then both paintbrush and hand were taken away and Harry whimpered his loss.

When the brush was replaced with the tip of Severus’ finger, Harry gave up all pretense of obeisance and humped his hips back against that hand, begging without words for those long, knowing fingers to penetrate him.

His arse was given a sharp, painful smack and he cried out. “Keep your hips still, you little slut. I don’t want to remind you again who controls when – and if – you get your release.”

Harry whimpered and nodded frantically. “Yes, Severus,” he whispered between pants.

Severus pulled away completely, off the bed, and Harry whined. “Severus?” he pleaded after a moment, and almost jumped a mile when a slick finger tickled his foot.

Severus settled on the bed again behind Harry and caressed the muscle with the tip of a long finger.

Harry’s legs jerked and his fingers clenched the bedsheets once more, but his hips were kept so tightly still they were trembling.

Severus let the tip of his finger pause there, just touching the velvety entrance, until Harry’s keening pleas were interrupted only by his whimpering breath.

Finally, finally, he pressed his finger into the eager passage, loving how the pitch of Harry’s whine increased, how Harry tossed his head back, exposing the smooth, pale throat submissively.

The muscles clenched tightly around Severus’ finger and he was having a difficult time holding back from thrusting his cock into the willing form before him and rutting away.

He stroked his other hand up Harry’s smooth chest and released one nipple from its clasp.

Harry screamed mindlessly as blood flowed back into the tortured bud, thrusting his hips against Severus’ palm, clearly beyond thought, and as Severus watched his lovely little toy lose control, his own control reached the breaking point.

He roughly pulled his fingers from Harry’s clenching passage – Harry whimpered piteously at the loss – and thrust cruelly, harshly into Harry until tight balls met firm, clamping arse.

Harry and Severus both cried out with pleasure. Harry humped his hips back against Severus greedily, and Severus thrust as hard and deep as he could, spewing nonsense names and orders.

He released Harry’s other nipple and Harry screamed again, begging for more, more pain, more anything.

Severus growled and felt his orgasm building. He slipped his hand over Harry’s mouth and the boy sucked his fingers in, licking and sucking avidly and mindlessly in time with Severus’ thrusts.

Severus screamed and pumped his come deep into Harry’s arse.

When he came down, Harry was still thrusting against him, his attempts to bring himself off on his own frustrated by the cock ring.

Severus pulled out and flipped Harry on to his back. He spoke the spell to release the ring, bent down, and swallowed Harry whole.

Harry screamed once more, spilling himself down Severus’ throat and screaming, sobbing Severus’ name.

Severus let the softening cock slip out of his mouth and slumped on top of the boy, kissing him deeply. “Harry,” he panted, “Harry.”

“Sev’rus,” Harry managed before passing out.

Severus chuckled and scrambled for his wand that lay on the night table. “ _Accio_ flannel,” he slurred, and the cloth flew out of the bath and into his hand. He shoved himself up on his elbow with an exhausted groan and cleaned the worst of the evidence of their lovemaking off of Harry, then lay back and scrubbed his own body.

He had just enough energy left to Banish the flannel to the hamper.

* * *

Harry awoke slowly, to the feel of Severus gently kissing him. “Happy Birthday,” he murmured softly, once he realised Harry was awake. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Eggs and bangers,” Harry said softly. “Toast. A cinnamon roll.”

“Done,” Severus murmured. “Let me get you your first gift, hold on.”

Severus kissed him softly once more and sprang from the bed.

In the corner of the room was something bumpy covered by a sheet: obviously it had been under an invisibility spell until now.

Severus pulled the sheet off with a flourish. Underneath was a television set.

“Oh, Severus!” Harry said. “Thank you!”

Severus looked terribly satisfied with himself as he handed Harry the remote control. “I shall go make breakfast whilst you enjoy your first gift.”

“There’s more?”

Severus smirked and winked, then left the room.

Harry sighed happily and turned on the television.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Severus brought the breakfast back into their bedroom. For reasons unknown to Severus, Harry still referred to it as Severus’ room, Severus’ bed. But Harry slept in the bedroom, and often he slept on the bed with Severus, unless he was on punishment.

Severus supposed it was because, for so long, Harry didn’t really have a place of his own. Even the cupboard under the stairs held various and sundry cleaning apparatuses, with Harry’s cot shoved in haphazardly in the back. He’d never lived anywhere where he could really set down his own roots, not even Hogwarts.

So now, he considered very few things ‘his’. He’d established two drawers for himself, and kept all his possessions in those and a school trunk in front of the bed that still bore his initials.

He had very few belongings in the closet, and those were items of clothing Severus had purchased for him, for the benefits and banquets they had to attend because Harry was still the Boy who Lived.

Severus set the breakfast tray over Harry’s lap and Harry’s eyes widened comically. “I love you,” he breathed. “Thank you for cooking for me, Severus.”

He bit down into the cinnamon roll with relish, and gestured to Severus to join him.

Severus did. “What is on the, er, televisum?”

Harry laughed softly. “Television. It’s just the Muggle news. How did you get it to work?”

“Simple spell, really. Your mother taught it to me at Hogwarts. She brought her – I believe it was something called an hate-track?”

“An eight-track,” Harry said. He had long ago learned of the friendship his mother and Severus had shared – if secretly – as children.

“Yes, that. She taught me a simple little spell to allow them to work properly in a magic home. Of course, they didn’t work at Hogwarts anyway – but your mother was very resourceful, and figured a way around that as well.”

“Tell me, please,” Harry said, starting in on his eggs.

“She charmed the, er, tapes themselves to play their music. It was my first taste of Muggle culture.”

“Did you like it?”

Severus smiled. “I enjoyed the Beatles quite a lot. I think your mother might have even got me the cassette for Christmas one year.”

Harry smiled. “What was she like?” he asked as he set aside the empty tray.

Severus tugged at his sleeve and Harry eagerly scooted closer to him.

“She was very intelligent and skilled in Charms, as you already know. I think she was better suited for Ravenclaw than Godric’s house, but then, she was brave enough to – Anyway, she was also very beautiful.”

Harry nodded and Severus carded long fingers through his hair.

“She liked to ride horses. She didn’t play Quidditch, but she liked to watch it quite a lot. She hated chocolate and had skin very like yours, pale and spot-free.”

“Do-do you know how she fell in love with my father?”

“I only know that he stopped being a fool – to her at least.”

“Did . . .” Harry gulped. “Did you love her?”

“I have always known that I prefer the company of men, but she was a rather close contemporary.” Severus sipped his orange juice, indicating that the conversation was over for the moment. He reached beneath the bed for a gift-wrapped package. “Next birthday present.”

Harry smiled shyly and took it, unwrapping it with the care of one who had received few gifts in his life, and had learned to treasure what he did receive.

He pulled the long book over to his lap to see it more clearly once he’d set aside the wrapping. “A blank book?”

“A sketchbook. Muggles apparently have special paper specifically designed for artists.”

Harry nodded and opened the cover to reveal the thick white paper. He ran his fingers over the soft, rough surface.

“I know you love to draw, and parchment is inherently useless when it comes to writing with anything other than ink.”

Harry nodded. “I-I love it,” he whispered, still running his fingertips lightly over the pages. The small bumps caught on his flying-roughened fingers.

“I’m afraid most of the rest of your gifts all have to do with art, as well.”

Harry smiled again, his face lighting up. “That’s okay,” he said excitedly.

Severus smirked. “Would you like to open them now, or wait until your friends come over after the game?”

“Let’s wait for my friends,” he said.

Severus nodded. “Just a quiet morning, then?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, please,” he said softly.

They regarded the television for a long while before Severus said, “When were you planning to tell me that Lindsey came by on Friday?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Now, I suppose, Severus.”

“Mm.”

Harry shrugged. “I-I’m sorry, Severus. I didn’t think that it was important . . .”

“Mm.”

“Don’t be that way,” Harry entreated.

Severus simply shook his head, sighed, and pulled Harry closer against him.

* * *

“Open mine!” Ron demanded later that night, and got a sharp smack from Hermione for his trouble.

Harry laughed good-naturedly and reached for Ron’s present.

It turned out to be a professional practice Snitch, signed by the Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps, Harry’s favourite team.

Harry thanked Ron profusely and carefully set the tiny fluttering ball on the coffee table.

Hermione grinned and handed him her gift.

Harry unwrapped it carefully, revealing a book on the Dark Arts that he had been wanting for some time, on Animagi.

Remus leant over and took it from Harry’s shocked grasp.

“It’s really a gift for both of you,” she said. “If it’s okay with Severus, I was thinking Remus could have an animal to run with on full moons again.”

Harry smiled at Remus.

“We’ll see,” Severus said, in a tone of voice that meant the answer was probably yes.

* * *

When it was nearing the end of the evening, Severus pulled a small package out of his pocket and handed it unobtrusively to Harry.

Harry smiled and tore the wrapping off to reveal a jewellery box. “What’s this, Severus?” he asked.

“Open it,” Severus urged.

Harry did, and stilled, catching the attention of the others.

Severus lifted the box from his unresisting fingers and slipped to one knee before Harry. “Harry, this ring has been passed down to Snape wives for generations.” He held the box out so Harry could inspect the ring, but Harry’s eyes were glued to Severus’ face. “Would you like to wear it?”

Harry blinked, gulped, nodded, a small smile on his face slowly turning into a joyful grin as Severus slipped the antique ring onto his finger.

Severus placed a light kiss on Harry’s lips and moved to whisper in his ear. “I think that settles whether or not you’re going to lose me.”

Dimly, Harry nodded.

Hermione shrieked happily and scrambled over the coffee table to hug Harry. “Congratulations!” she cried.

Ron shook Harry’s hand, then, gingerly, Severus’. “Congratulations,” he offered shortly.

Severus nodded sharply at him, smirking as Ron’s discomfort.

“Are you sure that this is what you want, Harry?” Remus asked carefully. At Harry’s contented nod, he smiled and pulled him into a hug.

Ginny was next. She hugged Harry hard. “I’m so happy for you,” she said. Ginny had been the very first to accept Severus and Harry’s relationship for what it was, and had been instrumental in convincing Hermione and Ron to accept it as well.

Her husband, Neville, shook his and Severus’ hands. Now a fully-grown wizard, with the woman he’d wanted since childhood as his wife and several awards for his contributions to the study of Herbology, Neville was a confident young man in a way he never had been before, and no longer held any fear of Severus Snape.

“Congratulations, Professor,” he said respectfully. “I do hope you realise how lucky you are.”

Severus merely smirked.

“Perhaps Severus and Harry would like some time to chat, eh?” Remus suggested, and began clearing everyone out.

“Remus?” Harry called just as he was putting on his threadbare cloak to leave. “Can I speak with you?”

“Of course you may, Harry, if it’s all right with Severus.”

Harry looked sheepish and glanced back at his lover, who nodded and pulled out his wand to begin cleaning up.

Harry took Remus’ hand to walk him out of the castle.

* * *

“What did you want to talk about?” Remus asked as they headed to the apparition point.

“Are . . . are you happy? I mean, with-without Sirius?”

Remus looked into the distance and smiled ruefully, then looked back at Harry and shrugged.

“Do you want to be with someone else?”

“My lover is dead,” Remus said calmly.

“Yes, I know, but—“

“Harry.”

Something in Remus’ voice made Harry pause and really look at the older man.

“You love Severus?”

Harry nodded.

“You’d do anything for him? Die for him? Live for him?”

Harry nodded again.

“Suffer so that he might be happy?”

“Of course.”

“Can you imagine feeling that way about anyone else? Ever?”

Harry’s eyes softened in realisation and melancholy, and he put his hand on Remus’ shoulder. “No,” he acknowledged softly.

Remus smiled at him sadly, and Harry returned the smile. He watched Remus Disapparate before heading back inside.

“Have a nice chat?” Severus asked, Banishing the rubbish strewn about the parlour bit by bit.

“Yes, Severus,” Harry replied, and moved to help him.

“Stop,” Severus said softly. “Let me do it.”

Harry obeyed, setting his wand on a side table and watching as Severus Banished the last of the rubbish.

“Have a seat on the couch. We need to talk.”

Harry sat down, crossing his legs beneath him.

Severus paced from one side of the room to the other, almost nervously, quite an odd state for Severus Snape.

Finally, he came to kneel in front of Harry, grasping his wrists in both hands and looking into Harry’s eyes almost earnestly. “You truly wish to be with me?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “I can’t imagine my life without you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Severus pulled Harry off the couch and tight against him, holding him so hard it hurt.

He leant his head against Harry’s forehead and whispered hoarsely, “Harry, I . . .” Severus faltered and shook his head, pulling away to stare pleadingly at Harry.

“I know,” Harry whispered back, equally hoarse.

Severus layered Harry’s face with butterfly kisses, then lay the boy’s head on his shoulder.

“Why were you meeting with Lindsey Parkinson?” Harry asked softly, after a long, comfortable silence.

In response, Severus grasped the hand bearing the ring and ran his finger over it. He sat down on the sofa again, pulling Harry with him. “This ring has been worn by Snape wives for generations, passed down from mother to son, when the boy was prepared to marry. The last woman it was given to was Lindsey’s grandmother on his mother’s side, and it had been in the Parkinson vault since then. I had to get it back from him. It . . . would not have been right for you to wear any other ring.”

Harry nodded and hugged Severus tightly. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he whispered.

Severus hugged him back. “You had every reason to,” he replied softly. “But you must never doubt again.”

Harry pulled back and shook his head. “I never will. I love you.”

Severus kissed Harry softly and settled the dark head firmly back on his shoulder.

“Just promise me something.”

“Hmm?” Severus murmured inquiringly.

“Never see Lindsey Parkinson again.”

Severus laughed. “That’s not a problem for several reasons, not the least of which is that he was under the impression that I was requesting the ring in order to propose to him.”

“I take it he was quite upset when you told him it was for me?”

Severus grimaced. “He threw water in my face and called me a greasy, selfish bastard.”

“Sounds about right,” Harry said cheekily.

Severus playfully swatted his behind.

Another comfortable silence ensued, and Harry had been falling nicely asleep, when Severus asked in a low rumble, “How was your birthday?”

Harry smiled and answered without opening his eyes. “Best ever,” he whispered, and settled more firmly against Severus’ comforting warmth.

A long, silent, sleepy pause, and then:

“How do you feel about children?”

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic, Dan Fogelberg, 'Longer'


End file.
